Castle of Glass
by Maddie Rose
Summary: Scarlett Rivers is the bastard daughter of Petyr Baelish and Lysa Arryn - the child they were not supposed to keep. Raised in Riverrun, she knows little of her parents, and of the politics of nobility. She leads a simple and carefree existence - until the War of the Five Kings. Scarlett is catapulted into a game she knows nothing about, but which she must learn to play. Gendry/OC.
1. The Bastard of Riverrun

**Chapter One: The Bastard of Riverrun**

* * *

 **A/N: Okay so...this is quite different from my usual fics! The story is an eventual Gendry/OC, as I've noticed there isn't much of him in the fandom. Also Scarlett is quite different from my usual Game of Thrones OCs. So please let me know what you think!**

* * *

Hoster Tully, Lord Paramount of Trident, was dying. It was inevitable, and it would be foolish to try and pretend there was some chance of him recovering. The Lord of Riverrun was an old man, and according to his brother Brynden, he had never been the same since his wife had died. It would surely not be long now before he passed into the hands of the Seven. His daughter Catelyn and eldest grandson Robb had been notified of the fact that he was gravely ill, and would no doubt be asked to Riverrun for the funeral.

Scarlett Rivers ruminated on this as she puffed gently at the waning candles by Hoster's bedside. Her grandfather's flesh was cold to the touch, so instead of clutching at his hand and weeping, she had been reading him her favourite stories. He had read them to her in the first place when she had been a young child – Brynden too, when he'd had the patience. Now it seemed it was only fair that she return the favour.

The door creaked open, and Scarlett marked the page she had been reading and lapsed into silence as Edmure Tully entered the room. His lips were pressed into a firm line. She could not blame him for his concern – not only for his father, but because of the fact that when Hoster died, Edmure would become Lord of Riverrun. It had been coming for some time now, but it wouldn't make the burden any lighter.

"So you've written to your sisters?" Scarlett inquired, taking care to keep her tone casual. Of course she knew that Catelyn would have received word – her son Robb was King in the North now. Yet it was the other sister that Scarlett was concerned about. Lysa Arryn. Her mother.

"Lysa won't come, Scarlett." Edmure's tone was impatient, but not unkind. Scarlett thought it was rather typical, and wondered which reason for Lysa's absence was stronger – the fact that Hoster had married her off to Jon Arryn, or the fact that she was terrified of seeing her nineteen-year-old bastard daughter.

"Very well." Scarlett closed the book with a thump, resting it gently beside Hoster's bed. The Lord of Riverrun did not even stir. She could not say she was surprised at Edmure's answer, but she had been rather hoping she would finally get to meet the woman who had birthed her. The woman who had abandoned her in Riverrun when she had gone to marry Jon Arryn.

She thought that she ought to let Edmure have some alone time with his father. After all, he had limited time left. Scarlett hoped that Brynden would be awake, for she was restless and could think of no better person to talk to. Brynden and Hoster were not close, yet Scarlett had always cherished his visits. None of the Tullys treated her like a bastard, but being treated like a lady was not for her. Brynden had encouraged her wildness. He had been the one to put a bow in her hands and sigh with a mixture of exasperation and fondness when she kept holding it wrong.

"I'm sorry, Scarlett," Edmure called as she walked over to the door.

She turned to face him. In truth, she didn't mind that her mother wasn't coming. Yes, it was slightly disappointing that after almost two decades, she still refused to see her. But she had other family in Riverrun, family who had never treated her differently for her baseborn status. Family who loved her and cared for her, even if her own mother wouldn't.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Uncle Edmure."

* * *

The servants did not know where to find Brynden when Scarlett asked, but that was alright, because she knew where he went when he didn't want to be found. Taking a lantern with her, Scarlett headed out to the Red Fork to where Brynden was sitting in peaceful, contemplative silence. A silence that she fully intended to disrupt.

The river did look beautiful at this time of night, with the sounds of frogs and crickets mixing with the gentle lapping of the water. Brynden glanced at Scarlett as she approached with the torch, but did not make any move to send her away. Taking his quiet for acceptance, Scarlett placed the lantern between them and sat down. For a few long moments, there was no sound but that of nature around them. Scarlett brushed an errant auburn curl behind her ear.

"He wanted her to get rid of you at first, you know."

The words that broke the silence were not any that Scarlett wanted to hear, but also not of a matter she was unaware of. It had been quite clear that initially, Hoster had wanted Lysa to abort Scarlett. Yet Lysa's fierce insistence had led to Scarlett's birth, only if Lysa agreed to find a suitable man to marry afterwards, and leave her bastard child to be raised in whatever manner Hoster deemed fit. Yet over the years, Hoster had developed a fondness for the grandchild he had been so eager to be rid of. He had been the one who her begun to call her 'little fish', a nickname that made her swell with pride even to this day.

"I know, Brynden."

Scarlett didn't want to talk about her mother, or her father – who was discussed much more rarely than Lysa. They had both been younger than she was now when she had been born, and neither of them had paid her much thought when she had been a baby – Lysa had married Jon Arryn and gone to the Eyrie when Scarlett was only a few months old, and Petyr had gone to seek his fortunes in King's Landing.

"He loves you, though." Brynden glanced at her, brows furrowing as if trying to sense potential doubt. "You are his grandchild, legitimate or not. His eldest grandchild."

Scarlett had only ever met her oldest cousin, Robb. He was not even a year her junior, and had been born in Riverrun during Robert's Rebellion. She remembered little of him, although Edmure often declared that she had been impatient that her newborn cousin was too small to play with her.

"I don't really want to talk about death." Scarlett dipped her toes into the water. It was cool, but not unpleasantly so. "Not when there are other things going on in the world."

The War of the Five Kings – well, she supposed it should be called something else now since Renly Baratheon was dead – raged around them. She wondered if Robb really stood a chance, but considering the fact that her family had faith in him and he was winning all of his battles, he couldn't be doing too badly. Scarlett had been tiny during Robert's Rebellion, and a child during the Greyjoy Rebellion. She didn't know much of war, but this time, she would actually remember most of it.

She and Brynden sat in peaceful silence a while longer, before Scarlett picked up the lantern and got to her feet. She had always been too restless to sit still for long. Placing a gentle hand briefly on her great-uncle's shoulder, she trailed back to the castle. The hour was late, and Scarlett was nothing if not eager for a good night's sleep.

* * *

"Are you excited to meet the King in the North?"

Scarlett glanced over her shoulder at Tristan Ryger as he propped himself up on one elbow, examining her with lazy approval. She tossed her red hair back – the hair that was her namesake. Tristan had been her lover for the past year or so, although he had not been her first. She didn't know how much her family knew about her love life, but she didn't think it mattered much. As a bastard, being a maiden was not of great importance, for she was not expected to marry anyone special.

"I suppose so. It's strange, in a way. The first time we met, he was just my baby cousin. Now…"

"Now he is our King and overlord," Tristan stated, and Scarlett knew that he was still watching as she dressed. He was six years her senior and a good man, one of Edmure's friends. She always took moon tea after their encounters. She did not want to become a bastard who bore a bastard, after all. The thought was somewhat amusing in ways, but it wasn't something she needed becoming a reality. One Rivers of House Tully was quite enough.

"Perhaps my dear cousin will find me a suitable husband," Scarlett said, tone dripping with sarcasm. Her family had been searching for a husband for her since she had first bled at the age of fourteen – well, Hoster had. Edmure and Brynden had been actively avoiding marriage, so they actively avoided helping him find her one. Several of Edmure's friends had been suggested. None of them were particularly noteworthy, but even the lowest of nobility was out of Scarlett's reach, it seemed. All of the lords who Hoster had petitioned had politely declined.

Not that Scarlett was worried. She enjoyed the life she led at Riverrun. She could do as she pleased, with only limited supervision. She did not have to worry about playing the good wife, or bearing little heirs. That was for highborn women, chained women, women who were not her. Scarlett knew the Tully words: family, duty, honour. She had always regarded family much higher than the other two things.

"Aren't you happy with our arrangement?" Tristan teased.

She was, in truth, but she knew it would not last. Scarlett was not a fool, though she had once been. The Riverlands lordling who had taken her maidenhead was full of sweet words and bold promises. He had claimed that he loved her and wanted to marry her. Only a few short weeks later, those words had turned out to be lies, and he had admitted that his interest in her had merely been sexual. Scarlett had been heartbroken, but she was made of stronger stuff now.

"Of course I am," Scarlett retorted, turning to look at him properly. "But we both know eventually you will either tire of me, or find a woman to wed. Such arrangements are never permanent."

Tristan opened his mouth to respond, but was spared by a knock on the door. Scarlett frowned as Tristan paused, uncertain whether he should hide.

"Who is it?"

"It's Edmure." Her uncle's voice, and he sounded as though he might have been crying. "I know Tristan is in there with you, Scarlett. But it's important."

His open admission that he knew of Scarlett's relationship with Tristan made her frown. It definitely must be important, and the sinking feeling in her stomach told her that she already knew why Edmure was here, why he had to see her even if Tristan was present. She licked her dry lips.

"Come in."

Edmure opened the door and walked inside, and Tristan helpfully pretended that he wasn't there. Scarlett crossed over to her uncle, seeing the grief etched across his features. His hands were shaking, and she caught them in her own.

"Say it."

"My father is dead." Edmure's voice shook even harder than his hands. Scarlett pulled him into a tight hug, arms looping tightly around him. In this moment, she knew everything was different. Hoster was dead, and Edmure was the Lord of Riverrun. And Scarlett…Scarlett knew that despite her carefree life, she was going to be involved in some of those changes. For better or worse.


	2. Here Comes The King In The North

**Chapter Two: Here Comes The King In The North**

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 **A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favourited and followed. In regards to the pairing - yes I do still plan for it to be eventual Gendry/Scarlett. I have an idea of how they meet, but it won't be for a little while yet. Until then, I've got a bit to do with Scarlett and her family, so please let me know what you think :)**

* * *

The banners were the first indication of Robb Stark's arrival in Riverrun. Scarlett saw them from her window, the snarling wolves of Winterfell flickering proudly in the breeze. She wondered what her cousin would think of her. According to rumour, Eddard Stark had a bastard son named Jon Snow, so Robb would have at least grown up in a bastard's presence and hopefully would not treat her any differently. It was something Scarlett knew she ought not to worry about, but did nonetheless.

She feigned confidence as she strode out with Edmure and Brynden to greet them. The auburn-haired woman could only be Catelyn, and it was obvious that Robb was the handsome young man with curly dark hair. There was a young woman close to Robb's age standing beside him, and the two were smiling and talking quietly. Scarlett raised an eyebrow, looking to Brynden for clarification.

"That's Robb's wife, Talisa."

Scarlett frowned. "I thought he was meant to be wedding a Frey girl."

"Aye, so did we." Brynden's mouth twisted into a wry smile, and Scarlett's gaze flicked back to Robb and Talisa. Despite the grim circumstances that had brought them to Riverrun, they looked happy together. No doubt they had married for love, considering the fact that he had originally been betrothed to another. Scarlett doubted a crotchety man like Walder Frey would take such a thing lightly.

Catelyn stepped forward and embraced Brynden, then Edmure. She looked at Scarlett and her eyes widened in surprise, perhaps at Scarlett's strong resemblance to her mother at a younger age. After recovering from her shock, she smiled stiffly. She stepped forward and embraced her niece briefly.

"You remind me of your mother. How old are you now?"

"Almost twenty, Lady Catelyn." Scarlett examined her aunt, noting the older woman's wariness. Was it because she had been forced to accept her husband's bastard son at Winterfell? Or was it simply because Scarlett was a reminder of Lysa's shame? She was not certain.

"Cousin." Robb walked over, hugging Scarlett more tightly than his mother. He looked pleased to see her, although she doubted that he remembered her. He had been a tiny babe when he and his mother had departed from Riverrun after Robert's Rebellion. "It's nice to see you again."

"Last time I saw you, you were a squalling infant." Scarlett grinned. "Now, you're King in the North. What a difference nineteen years makes."

She was not sure that she should be talking to him with such familiarity, but Robb didn't seem to mind. He held out a hand and the dark-haired woman with him stepped forward, taking it with a smile.

"This is my wife, Talisa. Talisa, my cousin Scarlett Rivers."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Talisa was pretty, yet she had the hint of a foreign accent. Scarlett wondered where she was from, but decided it probably wasn't polite to ask right now. There were more serious matters to attend to, such as her grandfather's funeral.

"I wish we could welcome you to Riverrun under more pleasant circumstances." The sorrow was back on Edmure's face again, and it made Scarlett feel miserable. He was a more than capable Lord of Riverrun, she knew that. Yet something about Hoster's death seemed to make him feel lost. Perhaps it was because it was his father. Scarlett wouldn't know – she didn't remember her parents in the slightest.

"As do I." That same sorrow creased Catelyn's face. It must be the misery of having lost a parent, Scarlett decided. It made her ache inside – Hoster had accepted her, treated her as a young lady with the liberties of a bastard. Now he was gone, and something troubled her about her family. About Edmure as the Lord of Riverrun, about Robb having married a foreign girl instead of his betrothed. She just couldn't quite pinpoint why she was so concerned.

* * *

Scarlett thought that Hoster looked positively majestic as his boat sailed down the Red Fork. A Tully banner was draped over his cold, pale body. His sword and shield rested over his feet. He didn't look like an old and sickly man, he looked like an aged warrior who had fallen in battle. She had dressed finely for the funeral. Hoster knew she hated pretty dresses, but nonetheless she wore a red and blue one to display her pride in her family's house.

Robb and Brynden waded back out of the water after having pushed the boat out into the open water. Edmure was waiting with his bow, rather impatiently, Scarlett thought. Once Robb was standing beside his mother, Edmure stepped down and lit the arrow's tip. After a moment's hesitation, he fired. There was a small splash as the arrow plunged into the Trident instead of hitting Hoster's funeral boat.

Scarlett hid a smile as Edmure turned and glanced over his shoulder at his family, before lighting up another arrow. He fired again, with slightly more impatience, but this arrow too sank into the water. Robb laughed quietly, and so Scarlett allowed herself a small giggle this time, before pressing a hand over her mouth as Catelyn gave them both a disparaging look. Edmure fired a third time without lighting up the arrow, more out of desperation rather than an actual attempt to hit the boat.

Heaving a sigh, Brynden strode over, batting Edmure aside and taking the bow from his hands. Scarlett could hear the muttering in the assembled crowd, and she glared up at them. She doubted any of them could have fared any better than Edmure. She certainly knew that despite her training with Brynden, she couldn't have. Brynden lit the arrow and then fired it, tossing the bow back at Edmure and walking off. Scarlett bit her lip to hide a grin as the arrow hit home, and Hoster's boat burst into flames.

The crowd began to disperse, and Scarlett headed up the bank, eager to get back to the castle. She knew that there was going to be a feast, and she was starving. Before she could follow her family, someone grabbed her hand and tugged her behind a tree. Scarlett was not surprised to see that it was Tristan. She raised her eyebrows, and he gave her a roguish grin. As the crowd disappeared, he pressed her against the tree and began kissing her neck.

"I know you're sad. You know I can make you happy."

Scarlett sighed as he fondled her breasts through her pretty dress. She had almost forgotten that men had no sense of timing or propriety when it came to such things. Yes, she and Tristan had had sex right near here just the other week. But it had been in the middle of the night, and it had been a very different week. She grabbed Tristan's wrists as he made to slip a hand up her skirt.

"Now is not the time, nor the place."

"I want you," Tristan said huskily, as if that was the only thing that mattered right now.

Utterly irritated, Scarlett pushed him away from her. Sex wasn't going to keep her mind off the fact that her grandfather was dead. Neither was it going to be impressive now that some of her extended family were in Riverrun. Edmure might know and turn a blind eye, Brynden may have guessed, but she doubted Catelyn and Robb would look too favourably upon such a relationship.

"Perhaps later. We have a feast to attend in my grandfather's honour, in case you had forgotten."

Tristan looked slightly taken aback, as though he had actually forgotten. Fixing her dress, Scarlett swept past him. She was dressed as a lady, and so she would not act like a bastard. At least, not while her aunt and cousin were present in Riverrun.

* * *

The midday feast was followed by a war council. Scarlett was immensely intrigued as to what exactly happened in a war council, but was gently dissuaded by Brynden. He told her that it was no place for her, and that even Catelyn and Talisa would not be in attendance. Mollified at the knowledge that her aunt was not going to something she was not allowed to, Scarlett decided instead to get to know her cousin's wife better.

"You're not from here, are you?" Scarlett inquired as she took a seat beside Talisa. The feast continued even in the absence of the King in the North, much to Scarlett's delight.

"If by here you mean Westeros, then no." Talisa glanced at her, offering her a small smile. "I'm from Volantis."

Scarlett had read about Volantis. It seemed awfully far away. She couldn't think why someone would want to travel so far to a place like Westeros. She wondered exactly where Talisa had met Robb. Leaning back in her seat, she picked up her goblet of wine and took a sip.

"I'm the bastard daughter of Catelyn's younger sister." She was used to being so casual about it. In her younger years, frightened of judgment, she had kept quiet about her heritage. Now, as an adult, she found that she was bold about it. To her, there was no shame in being a bastard unless she chose to feel ashamed about it.

"Yes, Robb told me." Talisa nodded, and it was almost as though Scarlett hadn't uttered the 'b' word. She warmed to Robb's wife instantly. "I'm surprised that you aren't married. You're very pretty. Is there no one who's caught your eye?"

Talisa's words stunned Scarlett into silence for a few moments. The fact that this woman knew that Scarlett had _chosen_ not to marry, that she didn't have to, astounded her a little. Some people got a bit confused about such things, especially with female bastards. Perhaps Scarlett would marry eventually, but it wouldn't be Tristan, or any of Edmure's friends for that matter.

"No. I'm happy in Riverrun, not being married."

Brynden and Edmure were both happy doing the same thing, although Scarlett supposed now that Edmure was Lord of Riverrun, he would have to marry eventually. Brynden, on the other hand – Scarlett doubted he would ever marry. It wasn't something that interested him, and it wasn't her business to question the matter, just as she would never expect anyone to question her on it.

It was a bit strange now though, with Robb and Catelyn in Riverrun. Scarlett's quiet existence was changing, and she knew what with all the tension and war occurring across Westeros, she would be involved eventually in some form or another. She knew it likely wouldn't be marriage though. Although Talisa claimed she was pretty, Scarlett was not pretty enough to negate the fact that she was baseborn.

Sometimes, she resented her parents, but then she had wondered what her life would be like if they had married. She would be Scarlett Baelish, which didn't sound quite as nice as Scarlett Rivers. She would have grown up at her father's small household of The Fingers, out in the middle of nowhere. When she thought about it that way, she was almost glad that she was a bastard. Instead, she had been raised in Riverrun, surrounded by her family. She supposed there were bound to be positives and negatives either way.

Finishing her goblet of wine, Scarlett supposed it may be a good idea to go and visit Tristan. She didn't know where he was now, but certainly not at the feast. She did hope he wasn't stinging over her earlier rejection of him, because it would be extremely childish for a grown man. Pushing herself to her feet, Scarlett swept from the hall and into the cooler, quieter corridors surrounding it.

Tomorrow, she would speak more with Robb and Catelyn. Tomorrow, she would put on the persona of lady Scarlett. But tonight, she was more than happy to be bastard Scarlett. Bastards had more fun anyway.


	3. Laws Of My Fist

**Chapter Three: Laws Of My Fist**

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 **A/N: Oh wow I didn't realise it had been a year since I updated this, I am so sorry! Thankfully with the new season coming up, I have my muse for Scarlett - and my other Game of Thrones OCs - back again. I hope you enjoy this update, don't worry, Gendry is going to be coming into the picture very soon ;)**

* * *

Riverrun was, for the most part, a quiet and peaceful place. Yet the arrival of Robb Stark and his entourage, the death of Hoster Tully, had changed that. People hurrying about the place was a sight Scarlett was quickly becoming accustomed to. She constantly had the feeling that she was running late for something, yet she didn't really know what. As a bastard, it wasn't as though she had an array of important meetings to attend.

Yet there came one evening when Scarlett was roused from sleep by more shouting than usual. At first she kept her eyes closed, hoping it would be over in a few minutes. Unfortunately for her, it wasn't. Heaving a frustrated sigh, she rolled out of bed and tugged her cloak around her shoulders. The stone tiles were icy cold beneath her bare feet as she peered into the hallway.

"What's going on?" She caught the arm of the first person she came across, a man clad in Stark colours. His eyes were wide but once he took in her red curls, he seemed to think the better of staying silent.

"The prisoners have been killed."

"The Lannister boys?" Scarlett jerked her hand back as if his clothing had burned her. The only prisoners she could think of were two young squires in their early teens who had been kept in the dungeons. She knew Robb well enough at least that he couldn't have ordered their execution. They were more beneficial to him alive. Yet it did beg the question – who was responsible for their deaths? Brynden was waiting outside as Scarlett made her way toward the hall. She attempted to brush past him, but instead he caught her arm.

"Scarlett, no. You don't want to see this."

"I know the Lannister boys were killed," Scarlett tugged her arm from his grasp. Since Robb's arrival she had constantly been kept in the dark about everything going on. At first she had shrugged it off, knowing a bastard couldn't really expect any better – but now it was frustrating her. Riverrun was her own home, and she was a stranger to many of the events taking place within it. She could hear shouting inside the hall and wanted to know what was going on. Hoster had always said she was too curious for her own good.

"It was Lord Karstark," Brynden admitted, raking a hair through his grey hair.

The confession made Scarlett's eyebrows fly upwards. She had not been expecting one of Robb's own banner-men to betray him. It was clear that there was tension among them, possibly because Robb had gone back on his word in regards to marrying a Frey girl. Politics – something Scarlett had done her utmost to avoid, something she had been thrilled her bastard status excluded her from, and now something that was causing problems at Riverrun.

"What's going to happen to him?"

Brynden hesitated. "Robb wants him executed."

Scarlett understood little of the North, yet she knew that the Karstarks were a prominent family there. To execute the head of their family would not sit well with them, and she doubted they'd continue to support Robb in this war if he went ahead with this. She pinched bridge of her nose, wishing that the war had never come here. Although she welcomed the chance to get to know her family, Robb was more the King in the North than he was her cousin.

"This isn't going to end well, is it?"

"Trust me when I say you don't know the half of it," Brynden muttered.

* * *

When Scarlett had stated she wanted to be more involved, that didn't really include meeting with Lord Frey's sons, but she supposed she couldn't be choosy. With the Karstarks having abandoned them after the execution of their lord, Robb was desperate for allies – enough so that it meant he was more than happy to go crawling back to Lord Frey and beg forgiveness for the slight against him.

"Thank you for riding here so quickly. I know travel isn't easy in these times."

Scarlett scowled as she noticed Black Walder's eyes roaming over her body. He was one of Lord Frey's many bastards. Perhaps that was what sparked his interest in her, a fellow bastard. He licked his lips, and she shuddered and avoided looking at him. Although Hoster had gently suggested a marriage to a Frey man when she had come of age, Scarlett found them all to be loathsome and disgusting. Much like their father.

"The roads are crawling with cutthroats and bandits." Black Walder's tone was mocking. "But when the King of the North summons us, we come."

"Our father has instructed as to tell you that his alliance with the North can continue if his terms are met." It was Lothar who spoke this time. "Lord Frey requires a formal apology for your violation of your sacred oath to marry one of his daughters."

"Of course." Robb nodded, all humility. He had to be, considering how desperately he needed this alliance. Sometimes, Scarlett was reminded of the fact that her cousin was still just a boy. "He deserves as much. I was in the wrong."

Lothar wasn't done. "As restitution for this betrayal, he demands Harrenhal and all its attendant lands."

Edmure shifted in his seat. "I don't think that's…"

"We are fighting for the North," Robb reminded him, shooting him a pointed look over his shoulder. It was something that they could afford to part with, and so the King in the North was more than willing to surrender it. "Harrenhal is not in the North. It is his once the war is over and we have no further strategic need for it."

Lothar leaned forward. "And there's something else."

"We will do whatever we can to give Lord Frey what he needs," Robb assured them. Scarlett couldn't help but wonder how different his attitude would be if he hadn't offended Lord Frey. He was grovelling, and everyone at this table knew it. At least he was doing it with dignity.

"Not what, whom." Lothar looked at Edmure, who appeared confused by the sudden attention.

"What?" Once he processed what this meant, he laughed. "No."

"Our father requires Lord Edmure to wed one of his daughters, Roslin," Lothar continued as if Edmure had said nothing. The new Lord of Riverrun seemed to consider this, perhaps trying to remember which of Walder's daughters she was.

"How old is she?"

"Nineteen."

"Could I see her first?"

"You want to count her teeth?" Lothar's tone was scathing, his patience with Edmure obviously wearing thin. "We depart for the Twins in the morning. We need an answer before we leave, and a wedding not more than a fortnight thereafter or this alliance is at an end."

Brynden frowned tersely. "Your father does realise we're in the middle of a war?"

"Father is old." Lothar pressed a hand to his chest. "It will put his heart at peace if he could see her wed to a good husband."

"And his recent experience has made him wary of long engagements," Black Walder chimed in snidely, reminding them of the very reason they were here. Robb had married another woman while betrothed to a Frey girl, and so this time there would be much less leeway in negotiation. "Careful. We could throw your pretty cousin into the negotiations. She'd make me a fine bride."

"Excuse me?" Scarlett asked, her eyes narrowing.

"He has every right to be cautious," Robb assured them, resting a hand on Scarlett's arm as he saw how tense she'd become. "There's no need for Scarlett to become part of this. You have given us much to consider with Edmure. Please excuse us while we discuss it."

The two men got to their feet and exited the room. Scarlett was still seething as Black Walder offered her a sleazy smile as he walked out. She was pleased that Robb had spoken up on her behalf, but unhappy that she was for the most part being treated as though she wasn't there.

"Why should I let that old ferret choose my bride for me?" Edmure huffed, clearly insulted. He eased himself out of his chair and went to stand by the window, deep in thought. "At the very least, I should be offered the same choice you were. I'm his liege lord."

"He's a proud man and we've wounded him," Robb reminded him. The usual decisions didn't hold here. Robb had made a mistake and he was trying to make amends. It wasn't Lord Frey who would have to give in to demands.

"I didn't wound him." Edmure glanced over his shoulder. "My answer is no."

Brynden's chair scraped back as he crossed over to his nephew. "Listen to me and listen very carefully. You…"

"The laws of gods and men are very clear," Edmure said sharply, meeting his uncle's gaze with a resolute expression. "No man can compel another man to marry."

"The laws of my fist are about to compel your teeth," Brynden hissed, and Scarlett resisted the urge to snicker.

"It's alright, you heard him," Robb called, before turning his attention back on Edmure. Everything rested on him. He was right – they couldn't force him to do anything. But Scarlett dreaded what might happen if Edmure didn't go through with this. "If you refuse, our alliance with the Freys is dead."

"He's wanted me for one of his daughters since I was twelve," Edmure stated, folding his arms over his chest. "He's not going to stop wanting it now. When I say no, he will come back and offer me a daughter of my choosing."

"You're willing to risk our freedom and our lives for a chance at a prettier wife?" Catelyn asked in disbelief. Scarlett was left to wonder if maybe she would need to become a part of negotiations. Although a bastard was much less of an offering, at least it would be something. If Edmure refused, she would need to sacrifice the freedom she treasured so much. But would that be enough for the Freys? She doubted it.

"I have a war to fight," Robb reminded him, even his patience beginning to wear out. "We can't win it without them. I have no time to haggle. You said you wanted to make amends for the Stone Mill."

Brynden leaned close. "You recall that heroic engagement?"

Edmure appeared hesitant. "I had something less permanent in mind."

"I've won every battle, but I'm losing this war." Robb leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "If we don't do this and do it now, we're lost."

"I'll marry her," Edmure said reluctantly. The knot in Scarlett's stomach eased somewhat and she breathed a sigh of relief. It felt selfish to know she was pleased she wasn't going through the same thing as Edmure. Yet marriage for a bastard had always been 'if', not 'when'.

"You're paying for my sins, Uncle." Robb swivelled in his seat to look at Edmure. "It's not fair or right. I'll remember it."

* * *

"What do you mean I can't come to the wedding?!"

Despite Brynden's attempts to get Scarlett to keep her voice down, this time she wasn't interested in listening to him. She was incensed at the news she'd received, but also knew that Brynden was simply the bearer of that news. Nonetheless, he was the one she'd take her wrath out on. She paced back and forth, feeling the weight of her bastard name weighing heavily upon her shoulders.

"It's just because things are so tense with Lord Frey," Brynden assured her. Usually his words comforted her, but not this time. Not when it meant she would be left behind in Riverrun. She had been left behind her entire life and tried not to feel resentment about it, but this latest slight had pushed her over the edge.

"What will the Freys care?" Scarlett snapped, "Lord Frey has plenty of bastards of his own, why would having me there be a problem?"

"It wasn't my idea," Brynden insisted. Scarlett raked a hand through her hair, only getting more pissed off when her fingers tangled in her curls. She knew that this wasn't meant to hurt her, but that didn't mean it didn't. Of course, only nobility attended such weddings, where the Lord of Riverrun would be married to Roslin Frey. Yet Scarlett wasn't used to this. Big, important events didn't take place in her family. She'd been perfectly content with her quiet existence in Riverrun, before Robb and his men had ever arrived. Before she'd been constantly reminded of the fact that her parents had not been married when she'd been born. That her mother had abandoned her to marry a much older man, that her father had left for King's Landing.

"This was Catelyn's choice, wasn't it?"

Brynden averted his eyes and said nothing. He didn't need to say anything. Perhaps Catelyn's resentment of her late husband's bastard son blinded her, or perhaps it was the fact that Scarlett closely resembled a young Lysa. Whatever the case, it had Scarlett feeling unwanted and like she wasn't truly a part of the family, despite Brynden's assurances that it would only be this once.

"Edmure would feel better knowing he had someone he trusts looking after things here in Riverrun."

"Edmure would feel better not marrying one of Lord Frey's daughters," Scarlett sniped back. They both knew that the Lord of Riverrun was not pleased with this turn of events, even less pleased than Scarlett was about being excluded from them.

"If it was up to me, you'd have a seat at that table and a new dress for the occasion, you know that," Brynden insisted, his expression weary and his eyes sad as he examined her. Scarlett's resolve wavered, knowing that Brynden was only the messenger in this situation. Her shoulders slumped and most of the anger faded away in moments.

"I'll miss you," she said quietly.

"We will be back before you know it." Brynden embraced her tightly, before drawing back with a wry smile across his lips. "Don't feel left out. The wedding will, in all likelihood, be completely bloody boring."


End file.
